Little Moments
by beautifulXflowerXJo
Summary: Various moments from Cato and Clove's life back in District 2, as well as some from the Games and before them. Drabbles.
1. Photograph

**_A/N: _It's going to have more than one chapter. This one was inspired by the picture on the upper left.**

"Oh, come on, Clove. What's gonna happen if I take a picture of you?" he asked holding the camera high up in the air.

"No, Cato. Alright? NO! I hate being photographed. I always look weird." she said, trying to reach up and grab it but he was too tall for her.

"Just one?" he asked, still holding the camera up and out of her reach.

"Fine." she finally said, but just when he thought she had given in, she quickly stepped onto his feet and grabbed his right shoulder to push herself up. With her other hand she hit the camera out of his loosened grip and it fell to the ground making a small beeping sound.

"Clove!"

She laughed, stepping back onto the pavement and bent down to pick up the camera.

"Well, it looks like you still got your photo, Cato." she said, showing him the screen.

There was a picture on it, showing a girl's slim legs, only up to her ankles, dressed in skinny jeans and with dark sneakers on her feet that had purple smiley faces all over them, standing on her tiptoes on a boy's feet who was wearing similar sneakers, only his were dark blue.

If anyone saw it, they would probably think that a kiss had been involved.


	2. Freckles

"What?" Clove finally asked, looking up from her book. Even though she was reading she could still feel Cato's intense gaze on her face.

"Nothing." he said, quickly looking away. Clove just shrugged it off and continued reading but a few moments later she felt him looking at her again.

"Cato?" she asked, without removing her dark eyes from the text in front of her. "Is something on my face bothering you?" she finished, looking up at him.

"No."

"Then why are you staring at me?" she asked.

"No reason." She didn't buy it. Cato never did anything without a legit reason. Ever.

"I don't believe you, so just tell me." she said, closing her book and putting it down beside her. He sighed, rolling his bright blue eyes. He knew she was stubborn enough to not let this go easily. No point in arguing then. But it was so stupid.

"Fine but if you promise not to laugh." he felt incredibly silly. Clove narrowed her eyes.

"Okay." she said slowly.

"I was…" he paused and she raised her eyebrows. "… counting your freckles."

Hearing that Clove forgot all about the promise she had made only a few seconds ago and burst out laughing.

"You… you were what?"

Cato just looked at her angrily.

"Some promise you made, Clove!"

"I'm really sorry, Cato." she managed to say, still laughing. Seeing he was mad, she stopped.

"Oh, come on, Cato, don't be mad at me." she said smiling. He didn't want to give in but the corners of his mouth betrayed him, turning slightly upward. When she saw him smile, she grabbed her book and opened it again satisfied.

"So how many?" she asked a few minutes later.

"What?" he looked at her.

"Freckles." she explained. "How many freckles do I have on my face?"

"Well, you made me lose count." he answered in mock anger. "Now I have to start all over again." he touched her cheek with his index finger. "Let's see. One… two… three…"


	3. Opposites

The truth is Cato and Clove were complete opposites both inside and out. Fire and Ice. Up and Down. Day and Night.

He had sandy blond hair and blue eyes, while her hair and eyes were both dark brown. She was small and petite, while he was tall and muscular. She loved reading and learning new things and he preferred to ditch school every once in a while. He was what some people might call 'popular' – he had a lot of friends and girls chasing after him. She, on the other hand, was kind of a loner. Of course, she had a few girlfriends but she preferred to keep just a few people around her – ones that she knew she could truly trust and rely on.

When it came to fighting he had no problem with open encounter. His weapon was a sword after all and he was excellent in hand-to-hand combat, as well as a few other techniques. When she first started training she chose knives because they gave her distance. She didn't have to be close to someone to attack him (she didn't want to be). He acted on impulse very often, while she usually thought before doing something, even if it was briefly.

He was like the sun – bright and shining, strong and warm. She was like the moon – cool and collected, mysterious and majestic.

But even though they were so different, they were also alike in many ways. They were both strong minded and didn't let anything stand in their way. They wouldn't let one failure crush them; they just kept trying until they succeeded. They liked being feared and respected by others (which they were because of their battle skills).

They were both very smart and liked to train and talk to each other for hours. Sometimes they bickered like a dog and a cat but it wasn't long until one of them came apologising to the other. It wasn't in their nature as they were both fairly proud, but they preferred to apologise instead of staying mad and losing each other's company. They helped each other and cared about each other from a very early age.

But despite all of their fights and differences, in the end they were the closest person the other had. They had no secrets. They shared everything – all of the pain and sadness as well as everything good that happened to them.

And when they were brought to their knees by all of the shit happening in their lives, they got right back up again because they knew that there was one person out there waiting for them.


	4. Carnival

"I hate carnivals."

Cato sighed for the umpteenth time. A carnival had come to District 2 for a few weeks and he had dragged Clove unwillingly with him to see it. It was just how he thought it would be – lots of merry-go-rounds, shooting ranges, bumping cars, an enormous Ferris wheel and a man selling cotton candy and popcorn on every corner. The sun was setting and thousands of colorful lights were turned on. A lot of kids were dragging their parents by the hand to different attractions; couples were walking around, the girl occasionally carrying a stuffed animal the boy had won her. It seemed like everyone was having fun.

Except Clove, that is. She hadn't stopped whining ever since they arrived.

"Why did you drag me out here, Cato? You know I hate places crowded with peopl—" she got cut off when a little boy, carrying an ice-cream in one hand and a balloon in the other, ran past her, bumping into her along the way. The push caused her to fall to her left, towards Cato and she grabbed onto his upper arm for support. He caught her waist with his other hand, preventing her tumbling to the ground.

"See?" she asked when she straightened up. "Only trouble. I should've stayed home."

"Will you stop complaining already?" he asked annoyed. Just then an old man carrying a handful of colorful balloons passed by.

"Don't move." Cato told her, rushing after the man and out of Clove's sight. A few moments later he returned.

"Here, be happy." he said as he shoved a red balloon into Clove's hands. After all, no one can hate balloons.

She smiled at him, appreciating the effort he made and took the gift, wrapping its string around her wrist.

"How about we go to the shooting grounds and show those amateurs how it's done?" she offered, taking his arm. He returned her smile, glad he was able to change her mind.

"We're going to take them down one by one." he agreed.

A few hours later, when Clove looked at the red balloon tied tightly on the wooden pole of her bed, she couldn't help thinking that maybe carnivals actually weren't so bad.


	5. Rain

**Rain**

"Everything looks more beautiful in the rain."

Cato hadn't believed his mother at the time. He was still very young, only six years old. They were walking through his mother's garden when the sky started to turn dark. His mom had a big affinity for all kinds of flowers and she grew them with great care and love.

Ever since her son was born she tried to teach him how to appreciate the small things in life, not to take anything or anyone for granted because they're all a gift we have to deserve and if we don't they might be taken away from us in a second. She often took him to the garden and showed him how beautiful, delicate and unique each flower was. How the sun made their colors much brighter and the wind gently rustled their petals until it managed to arrange them to its liking.

"Look, Cato." she said, bending down and lifting a purple tulip's head carefully in her hand, without plucking the flower. "If we could see the miracle of a single flower clearly, our whole life would change." she said, marveling the flower. "Nobody sees a flower, really. It's so small that it takes time - we don't have time - and to see takes time, like to have a friend takes time." she finished, standing up and reaching for his hand.

Cato was fascinated by his mother. He listened to her words, taking them all in and trying to remember as much as he could.

Although the sun was shining, there were a lot of dark clouds in the sky, which suddenly started making their way to it, threatening to cover it. A storm was clearly coming.

"Maybe we should go back inside?" he offered. His mother laughed. "Aren't you afraid of getting wet?" he asked and she shook her head.

"Don't worry, Cato. Everything looks more beautiful in the rain." she said, extending her hand, letting the first drops of rain clash down on her open palm.

He didn't understand it then, maybe he was too young. To him rain just made everything wet and drowsy. People always hid somewhere or carried an umbrella when it rained. Nobody liked it. When his mother died, he stopped too. In fact, after her death, all of his mother's words and lessons lay forgotten somewhere in the back of his head and he refused to think about them for years. Ten years to be exact.

"Come back inside, Clove!" he shouted. Crazy girl was going to be the death of him someday.

"NO! If you want me to come in, you come out and _make me!_" she screamed back, laughing. Her dark wet hair was loose and slung carelessly over her right shoulder.

He sighed, throwing his hands up in exasperation. He was currently standing on his front porch, dry and shielded from the rain pouring outside. Clove, on the other hand, had run right underneath it and refused to come back in the house, even though her clothes were already soaked.

"Seriously, Clove, if you get sick or something, or should I say _when _you get sick, don't come to me, because all I'm going to do is say _'I told you so'._" he told her and she laughed again.

"Will you stop worrying so much?" she said. Then she tilted her head towards the sky and extended her arms, letting the raindrops fall on her closed eyelids, twirling around ever so slowly.

"_Everything looks more beautiful in the rain"_

The words echoed in his head, making him realise it didn't matter if he got wet (or even sick) if it meant losing this moment with her. He slowly stepped onto the ground, feeling the warm summer rain hit his body and walked towards her.

He really hadn't believed his mother's words all those years ago but right now, as he watched the girl in front of him spin continuously in the storm with a happy smile on her face, he couldn't help thinking they were true.


End file.
